


(this was home)

by free_cookiesx



Series: (home.) [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Found Family, Zombie Apocalypse, poor tommy is an extrovert who is Alone..... poor kid :((
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/free_cookiesx/pseuds/free_cookiesx
Summary: One time, in an abandoned town, he sees graffiti everywhere. Some sort of travelling group probably came through there; another group of people desperate to leave their mark on a world that marked them first. He tries to find them all. They have a symbol that they use to identify themselves- three blue 'Z's. While searching he finds something sprayed on the side of a brick house.This was home.Somewhere in him, it strikes a chord.
Relationships: none!!! shippers dni :), they are Family - Relationship
Series: (home.) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068893
Comments: 25
Kudos: 1261





	(this was home)

**Author's Note:**

> apocalypse au,, thinking of [this image](https://pin.it/5jDKgmv) dhmu
> 
> if this crosses any boundaries, please let me know! <3

He's walking through wastelands, areas where there's not another person in sight. He's stumbling through forests, areas that Nature has reclaimed for herself. He's scavenging in old apartment buildings, areas that people may have lived in, once, with their own lives and emotions and goals and aspirations and-

**_This was home._ **

Every day, he's looking for other people. Every day he's trying to keep his, cool, scouring the horizons. Every day he's desperate to hear someone else again, to see someone _alive _to hear someone breathing to feel something other than crushing loneliness to-__

**_This was home._ **

Jumping over nuclear wastes, he makes almost no noise. Jumping across rivers, he revels in the harmless patter of water on stones. Jumping behind a fence, he hides and hides from monsters, from things that might kill him on sight that might make sure he stops breathing that-

**_This was home._ **

One time, in an abandoned town, he sees graffiti everywhere. Some sort of travelling group probably came through there; another group of people desperate to leave their mark on a world that marked them first. He tries to find them all. They have a symbol that they use to identify themselves- three blue 'Z's. While searching he finds something sprayed on the side of a brick house.

**_This was home._ **

__Somewhere in him, it strikes a chord._ _

**_This was home._ **

__He thinks back on his home. He thinks back to when he didn't think that this would ever happen. He thinks back to when he thought that this- the zombi- Monster takeover was only something that happened in sh- trash movies. He thinks back to when he got separated from his parents, to when they were torn away from him, to when he accepted that they were never coming back to when-_ _

**_This was home._ **

He walks towards the sunrise. He walks in the night because in the day things that shouldn't be able to see you can. He walks to what would hopefully be a shelter of some sort with people he can talk to and be in the presence of again and touch and talk to and dammit he’s an _extrovert_ he can't deal with not being around people and- 

**_This was home._ **

He can't sleep soundly anymore. He keeps thinking of his family, his dog, his friends and he longs for a better and happier life. He keeps thinking of his house, his home, his backyard, it was probably gone now, reduced to ashes. He keeps thinking of the world, of how everything has changed since the apocal- _It_ started, of how he used to feel comfortable living, of how no matter where he was he could find people to have near him and make him feel welcome, and help him to _not be alone_ and the world used to be home, what did it turn into and- 

**_This was home._ **

__He gets sick. It happens about a month or two into his journey- he's still figuring things out and he can't get himself to anyone that could possibly help. He also gets lucky. He's in a forest with a river and there are more than enough sticks to make a shelter- possibly even a house- if he decides to stay. He doesn't- he's too deep in the woods and he could tell people didn't come 'round the area he was in often. Over a week he heals, it's just a mild cold, he can handle it. Still, he thought it would be better to stay put for the time being. He drinks water. Kills the singular monster that found its way to him. Heals. He turns his back with no fond memories, but the desire for stability renewed in his heart. He leaves a note for the next person that stumbles across this place._ _

**_This was home._ **

He thinks. About his plans once he _does_ find other people. About the people he cares about. About the crushing reality of the world he now lives in, the fear that permanently has a home in his heart, the trauma (not that he likes calling it that) he's endured- 

**_This was home._ **

__He breaks into a store. The smell of rot is prevalent, and most of the canned food is gone. He breaks into a tiny apartment. Nothing of worth. He breaks into a house. A little bit of edible food and some astronaut ice cream. He breaks into it, allows himself a little treasure in these tough times, allows himself to enjoy something good, allows himself to think about things other than what's outside, allows himself to-_ _

**_This was home._ **

__He doesn't speak anymore. Speaking alerts monsters. Speaking hurts his throat. Speaking isn't good. He picks up a sign language book on his way through an abandoned suburb. Now he signs and signs and signs to himself, because if he can't talk out loud he's got to fill the air somehow, right? He takes to telling himself stories about his friends that he might never see again, he might never see anyone again, he might have to live and die alone, he-_ _

**_This was home._ **

__He writes in his journal. He writes about the wastelands, the repetitive days, the things he finds. He writes something every day, if only to keep time in order. He writes about the things he finds- a rusty bottlecap, a shard of pretty blue glass, a glittery set of dice with the d4 missing, a dried-out sharpie, a glass bead, a-_ _

**_This was home._ **

About... six? seven? months after It starts, he spots a building with a giant wall around it. It's in the middle of a dense forest and there's no graffiti, save for three blue ‘Z’s, which is odd, but there have been stranger things. He approaches the looming entrance with his knife in his hand and with his teeth grit. He walks slowly, carefully through the treeline and as he gets closer the low thrum of electricity reaches his ears. 

__Wait._ _

**_This... was? Home?_ **

__He hasn't heard electricity in months. Instantly he's nervous- who wouldn't be? He's not sure if this is a hostile situation or a peaceful one and he's not willing to take any chances. He knows there are eyes on him- there's a camera and there are windows in the building beyond the wall. He knows that there are people in here- the monsters aren't intelligent enough to work electricity. He knows that he's turned into a somewhat competent fighter- you don't get through the wastes without becoming one._ _

**_This is... a hostile? friendly? base._ **

__At this point he almost gives up, almost leaves, he hasn't had an interaction with another person in so long, he starts to step away to leave and there's nothing he can do anymore he's better off alone and-_ _

**Hello?**

__He freezes. From the buzzer next to the gate comes the same low voice._ _

**Teen just outside of our perimeter, please state your name and purpose or leave.**

**_This is… new._ **

__He clears his throat- something he hasn't done in a long while. He doesn't put his knife away and moves closer to the microphone. He has to whisper, his voice hasn't been used, he's signing with one hand along with talking and-_ _

**My name is Tommy. I'm here because I'm looking for other survivors. I can help in any way you need me, please, I need somewhere to stay.**

__There was a click and-_ _

__the gate swung open._ _

**_This is... friendly?_**

__Tommy walks through the gate. It slams shut behind him and he tightens his grip on his knife but he continues, walking towards the double doors of the building. He knocks. No response. Again. It's hot, it's so hot and even though the trees around him make it better it's still sweltering and-_ _

__He hears footsteps running and he's nervous and excited and the door bursts open and-_ _

__He startles back and looks at the person in front of him. People. There are three guys. All three look at him in shock._ _

**Tommy?**

__He blinks._ _

__He's seen those faces before._ _

__ **Guys?** _ _

__His grip on his knife loosens as the ground starts to sway, and as the world around him collapses he can hear the worried shouts of his friends._ _

**_This is home._ **

__In his dreams Tommy is running. He's running towards a goal he cannot reach. He is running, running, and just as he's about to reach it he wakes up and-_ _

__He's in a bed. An actual bed. He- it was an actual bed. That was new. He sits up and looks around and he was in an unfamiliar room. His knife and bag were on a table next to him. Soft voices were coming from behind a closed door. He listens as he watches dust particles fly through the dim light coming through his window._ _

**He needs to rest. There's nothing we can do for him, the poor kid must have been living like this for weeks before he came here.**

**I _know_ but _God_ , look at him, he-**

**I know. We'll get some food and water into him soon enough, but for now he needs to _sleep_ , Techno. Will's getting some food, go help him if you need something to do. I'll be right here.**

**I- yeah. I think I'll go do that.**

__Footsteps echoed away as the door opened quietly. In stepped Phil with some medicine and a bottle of water. They make eye contact and-_ _

_**This is home.** _

**Hey, Tommy. Sleep well?**

**Phil? What're-**

**Shh. I can tell you about why we're here, but you've got to make sure you don't hurt yourself. Your voice sounds rough, how long have you been travelling alone?**

__Phil hands him a notebook and a pen. The notebook looked clean- cleaner than anything else Tommy had seen in- in This._ _

**_Since the start. I haven't seen anyone else in months._ **

__Phil frowns. Understandable._ _

**_I'm okay though! I've been managing._ **

**No, you haven't, Tommy. You're half dead on your feet, how long have you been-**

__He pauses and shakes his head._ _

**That doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're okay now. I have some medicine and some water that I'm going to make you take, and then you're going to get some more rest, okay?**

__Tommy nods and accepts the water bottle Phil hands him gratefully. As he drinks, Phil tells him about how he and the others met up, how they branded themselves, how they found this place-_ _

**It's weird, really, you would think that we wouldn't have found shelter this good, or even met up, but somehow we did. We fixed this place up and we've been staying here ever since. We're in contact with a few other survivors from around the world- but there aren't many. The internet's bad, but it's stable. We worked together and figured it out, and now we’re growing our own food and stuff, can you believe it?**

_**This is home.** _

**_Have you heard from anyone else?_**

**We have a few other people here, yeah. Kristen, for one, a couple strangers-turned-friends. We’re in contact with most everyone from most everyone in our corner of the internet, which is- extremely lucky.**

**_Can I talk to them?_**

**Soon. You need to rest, first.**

__Tommy nods. The door opens once more and there in the doorway were Technoblade and Wilbur carrying a plate of food. They rushed towards Tommy and hugged him and he made sort of- A sort of strangled sound. It was all too much and they backed off and Tommy waved and-_ _

_**This is home.** _

**Hey. It's been a while, huh?**

Tommy lets out a short, silent sort of laugh and when he looks back at his friends he notices- they have tears in their eyes. 

**_I missed you guys too._**

__Techno laughs and then they're all laughing and-_ _

_**This. Is. Home.** _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(this is home)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581172) by [Lillian_nator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_nator/pseuds/Lillian_nator)




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